


hold me, lover, and keep me warm

by troubadore



Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Cuddling & Snuggling, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-15
Updated: 2020-11-15
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:07:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,270
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27566482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/troubadore/pseuds/troubadore
Summary: He settles with his face buried in Geralt's armpit and tangles their legs together, sighing in contentment. "You're warm," he murmurs, sounding on the verge of sleep. "Cuddle me."It's an innocent request, but it makes warmth settle in his chest and his cheeks. Jaskier's always been extremely tactile, but things like this—cuddling in bed together—still make him blush and stutter like a schoolkid with a crush.Which...isn't that far from accurate, if he's being honest. Maybe he's not a schoolkid anymore, but he's definitely got a crush on his best friend.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Comments: 48
Kudos: 403





	hold me, lover, and keep me warm

**Author's Note:**

> we had a state-wide power outage a couple weeks ago due to a winter storm and i wanted to write a bit of fluff inspired by it c:

"Geralt." 

"Mm." 

" _ Geraaaalt."  _

With a huff, he lowers his phone to look at the figure in his doorway. In the dim light spilling in from the window, he can just make out the bulky shape of Jaskier wrapped in what must be three blankets over his head. 

"What, Jas." 

Jaskier pads into the room on socked feet and slumps over the foot of his bed with a dramatic groan. Geralt rolls his eyes, mouth twitching despite himself at the antics. He nudges Jaskier's form with his foot gently and then again a little harder when all Jaskier does is whine again. 

"Stop," Jaskier says, muffled by his blankets. His hand sneaks out of the cocoon to swat at Geralt's leg. 

"You stop," Geralt shoots back, kicking him again just for the hell of it. "What do you want." 

More muffled words are his answer. 

"I can't hear you, Jas." 

There's a bit of shuffling, and then Jaskier's voice is much clearer when he whines, "I'm  _ cold,  _ Geralt. Do something." 

"What do you want me to do?" Geralt asks, setting his phone aside. It's nearly dead, anyway, and his eyes are starting to hurt. He rubs them as he says, "Downed power lines are a bit out of my limited area of expertise." 

According to the time on his phone, they've been without power for going on almost fourteen hours now. The freeze had set in the evening before and only gotten worse throughout the night. It hadn't been too bad at first, with residual heat still warming the apartment, but it's slowly seeped away in the hours since. There's a biting chill in the air now that even he can feel despite being under his own covers in bed. 

Jaskier scoots himself up onto the bed, crawling up to slide under the comforter next to Geralt and bury his head beneath his arm. Geralt doesn't protest, just lets him resituate as he pleases because sometimes it's better to just go along with his best friend's whims than to fight him on them. 

He settles with his face buried in Geralt's armpit and tangles their legs together, sighing in contentment. "You're warm," he murmurs, sounding on the verge of sleep—which, Geralt realizes, he must have been before he came into the room. Getting too cold is probably what woke him up in the first place. "Cuddle me." 

It's an innocent request, but it makes warmth settle in his chest and his cheeks. Jaskier's always been extremely tactile, and it's something he's had to get used to over the years of their friendship, but things like this—cuddling in bed together—still make him blush and stutter like a schoolkid with a crush. 

Which...isn't that far from accurate, if he's being honest. Maybe he's not a schoolkid anymore, but he's definitely got a crush on his best friend. 

Hopelessly in love with him, some even say, though those some can shut the fuck up  _ (Yen) _ . 

But he's also physically incapable of telling Jaskier no, so he lets him bury his face in his armpit and throw a leg over his hips and curl as far into his side as he can get, seeking warmth from the chill in their apartment. He lets out a quiet, happy sound when he's finally comfortable, and it just about melts Geralt into goo with how cute it is. 

With a silent, resigned sigh, Geralt pulls him closer and puts his other arm behind his own head, staring up at the ceiling through the darkness and trying to calm his fluttering heartbeat. 

Jaskier's breathing eventually slows back into the deep, even rhythm of sleep, and Geralt closes his own eyes, figuring he might as well try for a nap too, since there's no telling when the power will be back. He listens as Jaskier makes little humming noises, his own version of sleep-talk, and a smile curls his lips even as he suppresses the urge to chuckle. 

"You sing in your sleep, you know," he says softly. He turns his head and presses his nose into Jaskier's hair, inhaling the smell of his shampoo—something warm and comforting. "It's cute.  _ You're _ cute. You know that? Really cute. You make me feel like a kid sometimes, seeing my crush smiling at me and getting all flustered about it." 

Jaskier hums a long note, and Geralt pauses, tensing, thinking he's awake enough to hear him. When Jaskier only curls into him more, still asleep, he relaxes. He runs his hand up and down Jaskier's arm wrapped around his chest. 

The quiet permeates for a long moment, their breathing and the wind outside the only sounds to be heard. It's nice. Peaceful. His favorite kind of moment, just him and Jaskier curled up together. He wants it to always be like this. 

On impulse, Geralt lets his lips press against Jaskier's head. "Love you, Jas. Maybe one day I'll have the balls to say it to your face so I can keep you forever." 

"You get really sappy when you think no one can hear you," Jaskier says, voice muffled against his chest. "It's cute. You should do it more." 

Geralt freezes, panic creeping in. "Jas—"

A hand finds his face, cutting him off, and Geralt snaps his mouth closed before he does something really stupid, like suck on the finger pressing against his lips. 

"Ah—no take backs," Jaskier says, slightly more awake. He shuffles around, sitting up to lean over Geralt. "You said you want to keep me forever, so now you're stuck with me forever. No returns. No refunds. All sales final." 

It's too dark to see his expression, but Geralt likes to think he can see the blue color of his eyes in the dim, overcast light coming in from the window. He pictures the way Jaskier's mouth is probably curled at the corners like it does when he's being a little shit—like now—and wants to kiss it. 

"Jas," he tries again, but it comes out half-hearted and weak. There's no real fight in him. The panic has faded, replaced by a light feeling like budding hope. His heart is fluttering; it's a nice feeling. 

The finger on his lips is replaced with Jaskier's mouth, the kiss so brief and soft Geralt isn't even sure it happened until Jaskier leans down to kiss his forehead, then his cheek, ending with a peck on his nose. It's so fucking  _ endearing,  _ it nearly makes him melt inside. 

"I love you too," Jaskier murmurs, settling back down beside him. He buries his head back in Geralt's armpit, winding his arms around his chest and tangling them back together. "Always have, you big softie. Now sleep. It's cozy. Don't wake me until the lights come back on." 

At that moment, the low noise that indicates the heater is running fills the room, followed by the alarm clock on the bedside table lighting up, numbers flashing and needing to be reset, as well as his bedside lamp. Power's back, it seems. 

Geralt lets out a loud guffaw at the look of utter indignation on Jaskier's face when he sits up in a jolt, the way his lip juts out in a truly award-level pout. He shakes his head, reaching out to knock him gently on the chin and get his attention. 

"Hey," he says. Those blue eyes move to him, shining in the wash of light. "Kiss me properly." 

Jaskier's mouth curls in a soft smile just like he knew it would, and Geralt meets it with one of his own as he leans over him again. 

**Author's Note:**

> [twitter](http://twitter.com/troubadorer) // [tumblr](http://geraltofriviasleftbuttcheek.tumblr.com)


End file.
